


Born to be a kleptomaniac!

by ChopinWorshipper



Series: The Olympians and their everyday shenanigans [15]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Apollon has no chill, Apollon is PISSED, Apollon says trans rights, Death Threats, Everyone is immortal, Gen, Hermes just wants his mother to accept him for who he is, Kinda, Maia is not a good parent, Minor Angst, Misgendering, Redeemable Jerks, Trans Hermes, Transphobia, Zeus actually has some chill, Zeus also says trans rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29924682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChopinWorshipper/pseuds/ChopinWorshipper
Summary: Hermes has just been born and already got himself into a world of trouble. Now he had not only his mother's intolerance but also an infuriated light god to worry about. But at least the latter isn't something the little charmer can't handle.
Relationships: Apollo & Hermes (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Series: The Olympians and their everyday shenanigans [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148963
Kudos: 3





	Born to be a kleptomaniac!

He had just been born – though through his eyes, his birth hadn't been as joyful as it should have been.

“ _My daughter! My pride and joy! I will call you Hermione¹ and you will be my beautiful baby girl!”_

That had been her first words onto laying eyes on her newborn.

But everything about it sounded wrong, so wrong.

Daughter … little girl … and Hermione?! Really???

Gods came into the world with fully developed minds and knowledge beyond mortal ken and they grew up extremely quickly. That was how this little boy knew who he was – and who his mother thought he was.

Speaking of her, she had just cleaned up the mess from his birth and gone to sleep off her exhaustion, after placing him in a crib.

However, the baby boy refused to just lie in his crib and be bored out of his mind – especially, when his mother had upset him so in the very first minute of his life.

So off he crawled and out of the cave (how? He was a god, that's how!), leaving his sleeping mother alone inside. She would be fine.

Once out in the sun, he couldn't help but be in awe. What a beautiful place the world was! So wide, so colourful, so full of life!

Suddenly, he tripped and fell. As he looked around, sniffling because his knees hurt, he found that he had tripped over a peacefully grazing tortoise. The pain was instantly forgotten.

The little boy laughed, as he picked the tortoise up: “Hello, little thing!”

Then he carried his new-found toy off and killed it. Poor tortoise, but her afterlife would be awesome! After scratching off the flesh, he took the shell, the sinews and a few small bones and fashioned out of them a brand new instrument. “Lyre”, he named it.

For a little while, he tried his new instrument out, plucking the strings and composing little songs.

Then he got hungry.

And wandered off to find some food.

It wasn't long until he came across a giant herd of cattle. Now that was it! Perfect lunch!

The little god grinned mischievously and hatched a plan.

With great care, he selected fifty cows that were grazing separately from the herd. And with a snap of his fingers, he twisted their hoofs backwards to make it look as if they were walking into the opposite direction (damn, was he a genius or what?).

He let them feed some more, while he lit a sacrificial fire, then picked two of them and slit their throats. After butchering them, he portioned their meat into twelve and sacrificed the portions. Eleven for the Olympians, one for himself.

Then he made haste to get home before nightfall.

Sadly, his mother was already awake, as he crawled back into the cave.

“Hermione! There you are, I was so worried! What have you been up to?”, she scolded.

The divine baby frowned at her. “Don't call me that! I'm not Hermione! Also, I haven't been up to anything! I just wanted to look at the world!”

“Of course you're Hermione! Also, you're lying! My own daughter!”

“I'm a boy!”

“No, you're not! Don't argue with me, I gave birth to you! Now tell me, what have you done?! No honest person is out at night!”

He bit his lips (yes, he already had teeth). Why did his own mother not understand? It was true, she had given birth to him and he loved her for that, but she just didn't-

“Answer me!”

He sighed: “Alright, fine! I stole a few cows from some random huge herd I found in Pieria and sacrificed two of them to the Olympians! Happy now?”

“YOU WHAT?! HERMIONE, THAT WAS THE CATTLE OF APOLLON, THE BOW WIELDING GOD OF LIGHT AND PLAGUES!!! HE WILL HAVE YOUR HIDE FOR THIS!!!”

But “Hermione” snickered, because “she” already had a plan.

“Don't worry”, he giggled. “I'll be fine and so will you! I just don't want to live in this dark and gloomy cave for the rest of my immortal life! I want more! I want to be an Olympian! And if Dad says no, I will just become a thief for real and steal their stuff, until they give in! And if Apollon gives us Tartaros, I will just bust into Delphi and steal all the pretty stuff they have there, just for you! Don't wreck your head, I have everything planned out!”

“Sweetie …”, Maia sighed and pinched her nose. Just what kind of goddess had she given birth to?!

.

In the morning Apollon descended onto the Earth to check on his cattle. But as he counted them, he found to his horror, that fifty of them were missing! But there was no way they could have just wandered off! Someone had stolen them! So the god of light went off to look for clues.

Nearby he encountered an old man, who was tending to his grapevines. Apollon assumed an innocuous mortal form and approached the old man.

“Excuse me, can you help me? I was tending to my cattle in Pieria – a herd of white cows with curved horns – but some of them have gone missing. Strangely, my bull and herding dogs are still where I left them, but my cows have strayed. Did you perchance see anything out of the ordinary? Anyone taking them away?”

The old man thought for a moment and scratched his head. “Hmm … now that you mention it, there was something. Last evening, I was digging around my vine plot to check for vermin, when something strange happened. I saw a little child – a toddler at most, can you believe this? – driving a group of cows just like the ones you described. The infant had a staff and kept jumping from side to side and driving them backwards. I know that sounds insane, but-”

“Thank you, that's quite enough”, Apollon interrupted him. “Thanks for the help. Have a nice day!”

Then the light god hurried away to find the … uh, cow-stealing infant. It was a newborn god, without a doubt – probably a new half-brother, Apollon suspected. And sure enough, a bird with long wings (underneath the sunlight he couldn't tell what species it was) flew above him and confirmed his suspicion. Apollon was the god of prophecy, he knew an omen when he saw one.

And there on the ground he found another clue: the tracks of cow hooves. The tracks were pointing into the direction of the meadow, where they had been grazing.

Beside them, there was a different set of footprint: those of a tiny child. Weirdly enough, they were pointing into the opposite direction.

In less than a second the blond god put two and two together and grew even angrier.

“That little brat is going to get it!”, he hissed and followed the child's footprints, until he arrived at a small cave in Kyllene, Arkadia.

Despite his anger he couldn't help but frown, that a small child was living in a cave – still, justice had to be served. He climbed down through the opening and was greeted by the startled face of a goddess. He knew her: Maia, one of the starry-haired daughters of Atlas and Pleione and one of Apollon's many ( _many_ ) second cousins.

Right after apologising for the sudden intrusion and telling her what the matter was, he demanded to see the baby.

She shifted uncomfortably. “My daughter Hermione? She would never-”

“Let me see her”, he repeated firmly.

Unwillingly Maia stepped to the side, revealing the crib which her child lay, seemingly sleeping.

.

The little one had curled up and pretended to sleep, as soon as he had sensed a foreign presence.

He kept his eyes tightly shut and simply concentrated on the voice of his mother and the other one, which clearly belonged to a grown man (and was definitely the loveliest sound he had heard so far in his young life, but this wasn't the moment for that). That voice belonged to Apollon, no doubt.

Steps that weren't his mother's approached his crib and stopped in front of him.

He could tell, that he was being looked over, but instead of talking to him, Apollon turned to Maia: “Cousin, didn't you say this child is your daughter?”

“… Yes? Why are you asking?”

“Because this is not a girl.”

The boy's heart skipped a beat – could it possibly be …

“What is that supposed to mean?! How can you possibly know my child better than I, who gave birth to her?!”

“ _Him_ ”, Apollon corrected coolly. “I'm the god of prophecy, that's how I know. And if you love your son, you will deal with it. Now, back to _you_ , you little rascal. Stop feigning slumber. I know that you're awake.”

_Damn it!_

Slowly the infant cracked his eyes open and tried to look confu- _holy Khaos_! That expression was nothing short of murderous!

The baby had to think fast and in an attempt to appear totally cute and innocent, he stretched out his tiny arms and pretended to be completely entranced by the beauty of the older god's countenance.

“Pwettieeee!”, he squealed.

For a few seconds the older god did look disconcerted. Sadly it didn't last long.

“Nice try, but I'm not falling for that. Now …” his murderous scowl of murder returned (such a shame, it didn't suit that pretty face), “… where. Are. My. Cows? I know you took them! Spill it, _or else_.”

The infant pouted: “Why those mean words? I'm just a wittle baby, I was just born yesterday! I couldn't take cows! What are they anyway? I don't know them, all I know is my _metera²_!”

Apollon laughed, but clearly didn't believe him.

_Damn it times two!_

“God of lies and thieves!”, the blond chuckled. “That's what you are, little one! That's what your title will be among the _Athanatoi³_ , you mischievous little cattle thief!”

Apollon gathered him in his arms and proceeded to carry him off, despite Maia's very vocal protests and pleas.

Still the little god was smirking on the inside, because everything was going just as planned!

He wriggled around, as if struggling in the older god's hold and with a wave of his hand sent forth an omen (how? Divine magic, that's how!). Startled, Apollon dropped him, but he landed safely on the ground. The light god descended and picked him back up, not without teasing.

The little boy pulled his wraps closer to himself, demanded to know, where his older brother was taking him and kept insisting, that he was innocent of any accusation of thievery.

Apollon only frowned: “Stop lying to me, you little brat! You stole something that belongs to me and I _will_ get it back and _you_ will face the consequences!”

They kept bickering like this and getting increasingly frustrated, until at last, they arrived on Olympos and bust right into an assembly.

Zeus didn't seem surprised in the least, when his favourite son strode in with a child in his arms.

The Scale of Judgement behind his throne certainly wasn't – the weights (each resembling one of the quarrellers) were swinging up and down, awaiting the decree of Moiragetês⁴.

The new-born god couldn't help but note, that Apollon was almost Zeus' splitting image (unlike himself) – same long, blond curls and body type, same knowing glance, even though Apollon's pale skin and golden eyes differed from their father's black eyes and tan.

“Hi, Dad!”, the infant cried cheerfully and unwrapped one of his arms to wave.

The King of the Skies chuckled and waved back. “Hello there, little guy!”

“ZEUS!!!”, Hera screamed and jumped up from her throne. “NOT AGAIN!!!”

“Not now, my drop-dead gorgeous, stunning wife”, Zeus cut her off and turned to Apollon: “Well, my son, what matter is it, that you're bringing in front of the Olympian Council?”

Apollon glared at the baby, before explaining to their father: “This little criminal here stole my cattle!”

“Did not!”, said criminal protested.

“Did too!”, the god of prophecy spat, “And then he had the nerve to act innocent and tell me that he didn't know, what I was accusing him of!”

“I didn't steal anything!”, the child whined. “Dad! He just burst into my Mama's cave and made false accusations and threatened me, even though I was just born yesterday! Help me, he's crazy!”

“Excuse me, how dare y-”

But Apollon broke off, when Zeus burst into roaring laughter.

.

The King of the Gods laughed so hard, that it began to thunder outside and he could hardly keep himself sitting on his throne. Just like Apollon, he saw right through the ruse – yet he still couldn't help but be incredibly amused by his newest spawn's antics.

His laughter was contagious, some of the other Olympians snickered along.

Even Hera couldn't help but grin. “He pulled a prank on Apollon _and_ called him crazy? I like this one!”, she chuckled.

With these words Zeus' good mood was doubled.

“Why, you cheeky little rascal!”, he snickered. “Oh, you're my son, alright! Seriously though, give your brother his cows back. And you, Apollon, calm down. Siblings shouldn't have a falling-out over trivial matters like this. By the way, little one, you made a sacrifice to us Olympians last evening, didn't you? But you sacrificed twelve parts, instead of just eleven.”

“YOU SLAUGHTERED MY COWS???!”, Apollon roared, flaring with fury. “FATHER, HAVE HIM LOCKED AWAY THIS INSTANT!!! TAKE AWAY HIS IMMORTALITY! THROW HIM INTO TARTAROS!!! _ANYTHING_!!! HE HAS TO PAY!!!”

Zeus held up his hand. “Apollon, I thought I told you to calm down. Now, my youngest, won't you tell me, who the twelfth portion was for?”

The baby beamed at his father. “It was for me!”, he cried cheerfully.

Kronion grinned proudly and fondly: “Ah, I see! You sly little fellow, you!”

He took his newest child from Apollon's hands and held him up.

“My dear fellow gods!”, he addressed the assembled, “We shall be the Council of Eleven no more. From now on, we will be the Dodekathoi, the Big Twelve. So, what is the name of our newest member, my son?”

Of course Zeus knew, that Maia had given their child a name – but he also knew that it was the wrong one.

And sure enough, the baby shook his head.

“Very well, then. I will give you one: from now on you're an Olympian and your name shall be Hermes. Welcome, dear Hermes, to our crazy family! Still though, lead your older brother to where you hid his cows and give them back.”

.

The little boy was ecstatic: he had accomplished his goal to become a member of the council and he had a name – the _perfect_ name!

The only thing that blemished his happiness now was Apollon – or to be specific, the light god's extreme moroseness.

Hermes lead his older brother to the hidden cattle, just like Zeus had told him to, but the blond just didn't stop frowning!

But as he drew them outside for Apollon to see, the light god seemed to relax just as little bit – however, that lasted only until he finished counting them and glowered at Hermes.

“It's only forty-eight. Where are the last two?”

Awkwardly the youngest god pointed to a nearby rock. The hides of the cows he had sacrificed still lay there, drying in the sun.

“Well, my sacrifice had to come from somewhere …”

Apollon gasped, stared at the hides, then at his new baby brother.

“Th-th – _h-how_?!”, he stuttered. “ _How_ the Tartaros did you – how did an _infant_ flay and butcher two grown cows?!”

Hermes shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, well …”

But his nonchalant expression turned into a frown, when he saw how Apollon tore his own hair.

“Letoides, stop! You'll ruin your pretty hair-”

“Holy Khaos, you're already this strong! Only a few hours old and already a cattle thief strong enough to kill two adult cows! That's _terrifying_! How will it be, when you're grown up?! By Tartaros, you need to be restrained!”

And before Hermes knew it, he was being fettered.

Alone, he laughed, shook the binds off himself and transferred them onto the cows instead.

The light god gawked at this display of magical power, then his face darkened yet again.

Hermes was about to tell him to stop sulking over some stupid cows, when he saw the genuine distress in the older god's eyes.

“Well, that's just peachy!”, Apollon cried, distraught, and resumed tearing his hair (lovely, rich and long tresses of gold, flowing from his shoulders like cascades). “So I can't even make you face the consequences of your actions! No, you just get to do whatever you want without repercussion, whilst I don't even get the satisfaction of making you pay for what you've done! _I'm_ the aggrieved party! _You_ robbed me! Where is the justice in this?!”

The god of light took his anger out on a massive boulder, hitting it with so much energy that it melted.

For a moment Hermes was genuinely scared, but only until the other just plopped down on a rock and buried his face in his hands. Sadly he regarded his older brother. This wasn't right. He didn't want him to be so upset about something stupid like this.

Suddenly he had an idea. From underneath his swaddles, he pulled out his lyre tuned it.

Apollon looked up in interest.

Hermes strummed the strings with his stubby little fingers and began to sing:

“ _Praise to the Mousai, fair-voiced daughters of Mnemosyne and of cloud-gathering Zeus!_

_Praise to the richly tressed daughter of Gaia and Ouranos who gave birth to song and dance!_

_Hail the goddesses of the fine arts and may they inspire me in my endeavour!_

_Hail to the happy Olympians, the gloriously crowned, golden-throned gods … ”_

And he sang of what he knew about the gods, the sky and the earth, the dawn of creation and how everyone had received their portion and domain.

Throughout his singing he perceived, how Apollon's expression gradually softened, until the god of light was completely and utterly entranced by the music.

For good measure Hermes improvised a little hymn to Apollon to dispel any remains of resentment. The blond blinked in (evidently) pleasant surprise and laughed heartily, when the child started to wax poetic about how pretty he was.

“Am I being _serenaded_ by a _toddler_?!”, the blond asked incredulously. “This is messed up!”

“No, no! I'm not trying anything weird, I just want to cheer you up! Please don't be angry anymore. I didn't mean to make you so upset by stealing those cows.”

“Those?” Apollon motioned towards the nearby cows, which were still grazing despite the osier roots keeping their legs in place. He sighed: “You know what, just … keep the stupid cows. I have so many of them anyway.”

Hermes beamed up to his older half-brother: “Really?”

“Really. But tell me, you wily, little trickster, where did you learn this? And where did you get this marvellous thing? I have never heard anything like it!”

“That's because I invented it yesterday”, Hermes explained proudly. “I'm calling it lyre.”

“I adore it!”, Apollon exclaimed, “I'm friends with the Mousai, but even their music has never touched my heart like yours just did! Such a crafty little genius you are and you've just been born!”

“Awww, thanks! You're a genius too!”

Apollon chuckled and patted his thighs. “Come here, you little coaxer.”

“Yaaaay!”, Hermes squealed and jumped onto the Archer's lap, lyre still in hand.

“I see a great future ahead of you”, the blond prophesied. “I see glory in your name. I see you as a worthy member of our Council, a proud occupant of a golden throne. I see you and your mother honoured among all the gods. And I shall shower you with rich gifts and see to it, that all of this comes to fruition, if you will listen to me.”

“You mean you _won't_ throw me into Tartaros?”, the little trickster grinned.

The Far-Shooter chuckled: “No. No, I won't.”

“Yay! Hey, if I give you my lyre and teach you how to play it, can I be the god of shepherding instead of you? And then you can be the god of music?”

“Very well”, Apollon nodded, summoned his whip in his hands and handed it to Hermes. “From now on you're the god of animal husbandry.”

The brunet laughed heartily, handed his lyre to Apollon and taught him how to play it.

Then they drove the cattle to where they had been before and returned to Olympos.

Thenceforth the Archer and the Trickster were always of one mind.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) If you're stumbling over this name, Hermione is, in fact, an ancient Greek name and the female version of Hermes. In the epic cycle around the Trojan War, Menélaos and Helene of Sparta (whom you might know as Helen of Troy) have a single child named Hermione.  
> 2) metera - Greek for "mother"  
> 3) Athanatoi - plural form of Athanatos ("Deathless/Undying/Immortal")  
> 4) Moiragetês - "Leader of the Moirai (the Fates)/Guide of Fate", an epithet of Zeus (and Apollon, but mostly Zeus)


End file.
